Nutrition, Slacking and IMAZ

Let's get IMAZ out of the way.

It's official. I've really gone 'round the bend now. I signed up for Ironman Arizona.

'Nuff said.

No?

Ok.

You all know I'm more loquacious than that.

The entire weekend before, I was nervous. Hands shaking, about ready to throw up, and I kept checking the website...making sure I had the right one. So at 2pm on that fateful Monday...I go to the site. Ok...to be honest...I'd had it up on my computer all day. And at 2pm, the website kept telling me it was busy and to check back in a few minutes. And IT KEPT TELLING ME THAT!?!

About 20 minutes in, I got an email from Matt telling me he had made it in. I frantically write him an email saying I couldn't get the @%*$*@ website to let me in. He calmly emailed me another link. And of course it worked perfectly. It let me sign up. It let me sign up about 5 minutes before it closed.

Whew.

What the $*^&$ have I done? Even now, nearly 2 weeks later...I'm still wondering that. What if I can't do the training. What if I get a brain tumor in the next couple of months and can't go on? (Hey...with the past year that I've had...anything is possible) (Plus I have a headache right now, and the brain tumor thing seems like a likely cause) (Or maybe it's just that I need to go to the eye Dr.) What if I get all the training in, and I still can't finish? Can I finally take a bit of a break after next November?

Then I started looking at everything else I need to buy before next November.

Now I *KNOW* I'm crazy.

And this is supposed to be for fun?

Oh boy.

And this is all constantly running through my head.

So there's that.

Next!

I guess the other 2 topics are mostly related. It's the holiday's. And I'm training for a marathon and a half. And it's the holiday's. And there's a ridiculous amount of disgusting (and when I say disgusting...I really mean really tasty, yet really bad for you) food all around. Fortunately, I'm genetically inferior, and can't eat most of it. But I'm hungry ALL THE TIME. And it won't stop. I am trying to do as good as I can...but it's incredibly difficult. And I'm nearly ready to throw my scale out the window. Maybe I should do that anyway. Or at least ignore it for the next few months.

I've calculated my workout percentage of scheduled vs. completed. In October (after I started keeping track) I did 80% of the scheduled workouts. Not bad. In November, this number has decreased to 67%. This has mainly decreased after Beach2Battleship. Not that I didn't deserve a bit of a break. I definitely feel it was warranted. I just seem to be having a difficult time getting back into the swing of things. On the weekends, I have still been getting my long workouts in. Well...at least the long runs. It's the weekday efforts that are getting lost in the shuffle of being exhausted, and unmotivated to work out in the morning, and jury duty, and holiday's. Weirdly, the one that I haven't missed at all is my strength training, which has previously been the thing I've most easily dropped. Maybe because I can do it at home while watching TV. Maybe because it's been requiring less effort. Maybe it's because I have finally seen the light when it comes to building muscle, and it's effects in other disciplines. Who knows? (Most likely, it's all 3 causes) Any way you look at it, I've been beating myself up about it. Probably not the most effective course of action. But that's where things stand.

I think the most frustrating thing going on right now is that I'm feeling lazy because I've been slacking...but because the long workouts (and my constant battle with food) I'm eating more than I feel like I'm burning off right now.

So I'm running 18 miles tomorrow. And getting things back on track.

I swear :)

I Love the Smell of Neoprene in the Morning

Fact: Your body can go much further than your mind will usually let you.

Fact: A month and a half of real training is still not enough time to train for a 70.3 race.

Fact: My dad snores REALLY loud.

Well...the end of the triathlon season has come and gone...and it doesn't really feel like there's going to be any closure. No celebration. No special treat. Nothing of the kind. At least not now. In many ways, the "end" of the season is really just another training weekend, and a good way to point out just how far I have to go.

Today is November 15. Four months and one day ago, I had surgery. And 2 weeks after that, I got the joy of completely starting over on training. One week after that, I started traveling for work, which greatly inhibited my ability to train...both mentally and logistically. Then, once I actually started living at home again...I renewed my commitment to training...and have actually (finally) done quite a good job of keeping to my training schedule.

But anyway...

Pre-race:

This would be my dad's first race as my sherpa...so I was really excited to be able to share this with him. Over the past year and a half, my parents have been able to see what triathlon has done for me personally...and now my dad was going to be able to see it up close and personal. So my dad gets to DC on Wednesday evening...and Thursday morning we head to Wilmington. After several hours on the road, and a couple of last minute, tire screeching exits...I banish my dad from driving and more that day...and we eventually get to the hotel in one piece.

On Friday...we sleep in...well...kind of. I actually woke up around 4am...and couldn't get back to sleep because my dad was snoring loud enough, I couldn't block out the sound. But eventually...I get a bit more sleep. Then we head to do all of the fun pre-race stuff...like packet pick up and the pre-race meeting. After I had picked up my packet...I ran into Chris Wren...and chatted for a bit about water temps...and he told me that if I had the chance...I should get in the water because he hyperventilated for a couple of minutes when he first got in. This was slightly un-nerving. But I figure cold water is cold water...and there's nothing I can do to change that right now. So...pre-race meeting...the only notable thing I'll mention is my favorite quote of the weekend...in regards to exiting the water and the warm clean water showers...and the need to pay special attention to the...ahem...crotchel areas. Actual quote.

Post pre-race meeting...we head back to the hotel (and our second meal at Chick-Fil-A) so I could get all of my transition bags together. Which I do...and then dad and I head off to drop off my bike. It wasn't until this point that dad I really realized the logistical nightmare of the point to point race. But we survived...and my bike got to the appropriate place. And my dad survived dinner with all of you crazy Z people.

Race Morning:

The way my race jitters work...I'm a "lets get there ridiculously early as opposed to possibly being late" type of person. So that's what we did. And after I dropped off my transition bag...my dad asked if I wanted to sit in the car for a while to warm back up...which I obviously did. But when it was time to meet the rest of the team...I bared the cold...and headed to body marking. I lovingly told the guy that did my marking that "no offense...but you're going to be my least favorite person today."

So...we're all standing around. Shivering. And Mark gets this fabulous idea to just put my wetsuit on...and that will keep me warm. I didn't think it sounded like a terrible idea. Until 30 seconds later when I was struggling to get my stupendously long legs into said wetsuit. This would not be the stupendously long leg + wetsuit combination would pose a problem that day.

Once we got through the hurry up and wait...we all waddled to the the shuttles, and headed to the swim start...and once again got to hurry up and wait. We did get to see the Coast Guard piss off some full iron swimmers...but all for a good cause of rescuing another swimmer. And then it was FINALLY our turn to swim. I, for once, wasn't overly nervous about the swim. I've had some good swims lately...so I figured I wouldn't die.

What I really wasn't prepared for was how disgusting the salt water was going to be. Needless to say...it was gross...and ended up with some nausea. But the swim ended up going really well. Especially compared to my half swim at Kinetic in May...where I just about collapsed on the beach. So I have definitely come a long way since then. Who knew actually doing some strength training would help?

So I make it out of the water up the ladder...and over to the wet suit strippers...and my reaction (including eyes rolling about in my head) was..."HOLY SHIT!" So I get up...and attempt to start moving toward transition. And I realize that something is a little weird. Those things at the end of my feet...well...I'm not really sure they're there any more. So...literally everything that wasn't covered by neoprene...which because of those stupid, stupendously long legs...is about half way up my shins. So running...err...walking was a little difficult. But I finally start moving a little bit...and running actually doesn't feel too bad..when I'm not trying to trip and fall on my face.

Side note. I looked at the pictures my dad took during the race. He is now banned from ever taking race pictures EVER AGAIN! Me, half-naked, wet, and running is not as aesthetically pleasing as one might imagine. I have photographic proof this is true.

So I get into the changing tent...and take longer that I had probably initially imagined...mainly because I had to warm my feet up before I could, or would, get on my bike. So...I was on my bike. I actually saw my dad. Told him I couldn't feel my feet. And started off on the longest few hours of my life. Getting on the road...and getting passed by so many people...and realizing how slow I was...there was an array of thoughts going through my head. One of the main points was that I have such a great hope that one day I'm not going to suck at this...but clearly...I do...so why is it again that I'm doing this? I'm NEVER going to be able to do this. Well...there wasn't much room for that kind of a thought. Because it got much worse. Quickly.

After passing a few guys that were actually having a worse day than me. Including the guy with the broken clavicle. I realized something wasn't right. I'd try to shift...and my bike wouldn't shift. I'd shift again...it would jump 4 gears. For someone that is already uncomfortable on a bike...this was not a comforting feeling. But I continued on. Until the whole lack of shifting thing really started becoming a problem. I was devastated. I thought my day was over. On one hand I was almost relieved...but I didn't want to quit. This was actually eye opening for me. I was sitting on the side of the road waiting for the bike mechanic...and thought I was done. And realized that I really wanted to continue. So the bike guys get there. Compliment my bike choice. And in 2 minutes...my bike was fixed. When he held up my bike and said "there you go" I was shocked. I think my eyes bugged out of my head. My day wasn't over! Yet. So I continued on.

Not long after that...I realized that all of my mechanical problems were not over yet. I was having some major problems switching from the small ring to the big ring. Awesome. This makes going down hill REALLY fun. But I was still working with it. I had taken a couple of rest breaks...which helped my muscles relax...but it got the the point where taking a break wasn't giving me any relief from the pain. I had a nice little cry. It was actually a very emotional time for me. I didn't want to quit...but I was in so much pain I just didn't see how I could continue. Once I made the turn off of 421...and saw the sign for mile 30...and I nearly cried. I'd made it over half way through the bike leg. But the further I got...the more pain I was in. Oh...and I got passed by the sweep vehicle. That's not a very comforting thing. When it came to the turn where the half course splits from the full course. I turned into a parking lot and I broke down. Hard core. One of the Sag vehicles pulled in with me...and they tried to comfort me...and get me to eat and drink (which I knew wasn't the problem). And I was done. Just done. After a few minutes...we all got in the truck and headed back to the battleship.

I found my dad. Saw Ed. Cried some more. Ed told me not to give up...and when I told him it only made me want to work harder...that earned me a fist bump. I definitely needed a shower...because I was a little crusty all over. We decided to head back to the hotel. And I never made it back to cheer...because I passed out. Hard core. No joke. 2 days later...and I've slept a total of 19 hours since then. And I've even gone running. And aquaphored the appropriate places. And survived the long road trip home...including a stop at an awesome BBQ place. Let's just say Ralph knows how to make good BBQ.

So it's definitely going to be a long year. But I'm not going to give up just yet. :)

Race Jitters and Such...

Stupid athlete guide. If I hadn't found it while cleaning Friday evening...and then thought it was a good idea to look through it yesterday morning...I wouldn't be in the predicament that I'm in now.

Ok...so I would still be freaking out about the race...but since the athlete guide is what really set me off...I'm blaming that. Oh...if only I hadn't thought that it was a good idea to plan ahead and figure out what I'd need for next weekend.

Next weekend. And I say this with the most sincerity imaginable. Hooooo....lleeee.....shit.

What was I thinking? How could attempting to cross 70.3 miles in one day while swimming, biking, and running be a good idea. 4 months after surgery no less. Less than 2 months since I stopped traveling about the country for work.

This is a bad idea...and I'm an idiot. What kind of nerve do I have thinking that *I* could *possibly* be able to do this.

I've come to terms with the fact that realistically I really may not be able to finish. I did just have to start over working out 3 and a half months ago. And for 2 months after that, I didn't get to focus on working out like I should have been.

Never mind the fact that last weekend I ran 12 miles and spent 3 hours on my bike. Never mind the fact that I've had a couple (yes...only a couple) of good swim work outs. Never mind the fact that I've actually been able to tell a difference in my strength, and how some of my workouts are actually feeling good instead of making me feel like I'm dieing. Never mind the fact that all of the previous statements about my inability to do this goes through my head BEFORE EVERY FREAKING RACE!!

In the logical part of my mind, I see what's going on...I think. As I said, I have come to terms with the fact that I may not be able to finish all 70.3 miles. I'm going to get as far as I possibly can...and know that everything from this point forward is all getting me through next November.

The race jitters are something completely different. The race jitters don't make me think that I won't be able to finish. The race jitters make me think I won't be able to start. And I've specifically narrowed it down to where the problem lies. The bike. At least...that's what it's been for every triathlon I've ever come up to. Except maybe the race where I relayed and only did the bike. For some reason...I don't remember being very nervous before that. Huh.

Anyway...not the point. Right now...I'm looking at my new bike. He's gorgeous...and now that the fit is better...I'm sure it will be more comfortable. Especially now that my saddle isn't all wonky. But there's something about the bike leg in general that makes me freak out. But there's something about getting on the bike that just makes me ridiculously nervous...to the point where I don't want to go for a bike ride. And I have no clue why. Yes...I've crashed. But so have a lot of other people that get back in the saddle immediately. One way or another...over the next year...Cedric and I are going to have to come to terms. Somehow...we're going to need to figure out what the problem is...and fix it.

It very well could be that I'm just not comfortable because I haven't spend enough time actually riding. Which is very possible. Unfortunately...I live in the middle of DC...which makes me not want to ride because I value my life. And the traffic here scares the shit out of me even when I'm in a car. Let alone, out there for the world to slam into me and make me go flying.

During my bike fit on Wednesday...Ken told me that he wanted me to leave being absolutely comfortable on my bike. I didn't want to go into detail...but the thought crossed my mind that if he could really make me comfortable on my bike...I'd probably love him forever. And I'm not just talking about how he fixed my saddle fit my "stupendously long legs." Something makes me think I'm not there yet. Maybe when my new stem comes in.

And now that it's cold outside...that makes me want to go for a ride even less.

I hate being cold. I dealt with marathon training last year in the cold because marathon training on a treadmill would have killed me. And this year...I'm buying different clothes. Something that will not only keep me warm...but also block out the wind. That should help. But really...when it's cold outside, I want to curl up next to a fire with a cup of hot chocolate and read a book.

And preferably...I would like it to be that cold exactly once a year so I can get it out of my system...and then it can go back to 70 degree weather. Thankyouverymuch.

For all intents and purposes...I should hate swimming. I suck at swimming. No really, I do. I'm ridiculously slow, and every time I race...everything I have learned about form goes completely out the window...and I just try to survive any way possible. But I don't. I don't enjoy swimming when I'm tired...because I feel even more sluggish...so most days when I've had a long day at work...and I'm already really tired...I skip the pool. But I am committed to not stopping swimming all together this year over the winter like I did last year. I had gotten so much better by the end of the season last year...and then...again...had to start over. And I really don't hate swimming. It actually relaxes me in most cases. I think over the next year...as long as I keep up going to the pool...I'll be fine.

But now...back to the issue at hand. In the past...before every race that I've been this nervous...I've successfully crossed the finish line. And I've actually crossed in a rather ok form. But knowing that...still isn't going to help me this week. I foresee a long week...where I might be a little cranky...and will eventually be unable to pack. Part of me wants to hide in my apartment and not go anywhere or do anything. But I do know that that will do nothing for my race jitters, and the depression that will set in if I don't leave. Besides...I have to get out and go to work. And I am forcing myself to get out. I have to...or I will continue to go crazy.

One last thought before I completely kick myself in the ass and get going with my day (which actually started several hours ago). It's about the races where I haven't been nervous before...or just didn't really care about. Savageman last year...I thought "no big deal" before. And got my ass kicked hard. Giant Acorn this year...well...I haven't talked much about that...and my inability to finish that race. Part of me remembers that I was there to have fun...and finishing wouldn't have been fun. Part of me beats myself up thinking about how I quit. So...therefore...I haven't spent a lot of time thinking about it. I probably should...but that is definitely for another time.

Something weird is going on.

I've finally been living at home for a few weeks in a row...with no travel plans in sight...unless you count that one little race in a few weeks...or that one holiday that comes toward the end of the year. You know...the one with all of the presents...that makes my mom's house look like it should dress the pages of Good Housekeeping.

That's not the weird part.

When I finally started living here again, I knew that I would have a lot of training to do. And I knew that I needed to have a slightly different approach if I really wanted to be as successful as I am hoping to be.

So...I started waking up early in the morning...the alarm has been going off at a stunning 4:15am on weekdays. In theory, this is so I can fit one workout in before work, and one in after work. For the first couple of weeks, I thought it was the most ridiculous idea ever. I just could not get motivated to work out in the morning. I was able to get in a couple of strength sessions in the morning...but that was it. But I would still stick with getting up that early. My hope was that if I kept up with that, eventually, I'd be able to get motivated to work out.

Well...something weird, very weird, happened last Wednesday. My alarm went off, and my eyes sprung open...and I nearly hopped out of bed. I was able to run, AND do strength training in the morning...and still get to work early. And I was bouncing off the walls.

Surely...this couldn't last. Right?

No seriously...this can't last. I can't actually be...perky...in the morning. No. No. No. I refuse to be perky. At least not in the morning.

But it's happening. I was tired on Thursday morning...but I worked out. And other than bonking on Saturday during my 10 mile run, which I admit was purely out of stupidity on my part...work outs have been going really well. Like, exceptionally well.

And I've been waking up in the morning and working out on a consistent basis. Not including last Friday which is rest day...I'm on a role of 5 days. Totally unprecedented in the world of Johanna.

So things are definitely going well here. Work has been ridiculously busy...but in a good way...I think. And I've come to terms with Beach2Battleship. I'm going to have the most awesome Sherpa ever...my dad...and I'm going to try to do as much as I can. I woke up in a panic the other night worried about the swim...but I had a good swim last night, and I'm feeling better. I still don't think I'll actually be able to finish the entire race...but I am hoping to at least finish the swim and bike. Everything is looking toward next November.

Oh...and did I mention once I moved home I cut back on caffeine too? Yeah...I am attempting to keep myself to 1 cup of coffee a day. I figured if I was jumping off a cliff in an attempt to take care of myself...I might as well do it right. It's been an adjustment...but I'm surviving.

I just can't believe how much energy I've been feeling lately...especially in the morning. I've NEVER been one to work out in the morning...but I think that's changing. All for the better.

Holy $#!% I said it!

The phrase "I'm training for an Ironman" actually came out of my mouth yesterday.

I know it's over a year away, but I feel like the training efforts I'm putting in right now is all leading up to racing IM Arizona next November. I have a lot of work to do between now and then...and I'm hoping getting an early start is going to help me not die during the race next year.

And I'm not actually talking about really dieing...I'm talking about bonking. Not feeling like moving forward anymore. Or not being able to move forward anymore.

I want to be able to get more workouts in. This...on top of all of my other goals this year. To really be able to fit all of the workouts in, I need to get up early in the morning, and get a workout in before work. I tried this past week...and I got up...but there were a couple of mornings where I just couldn't motivate myself in enough time to work out. I did a couple of strength workouts...but that's it. I need to do more. I've never been one to work out in the morning. I've never been able to keep it up...mainly because I like being awake while I work out.

So, in that effort...I'm going to do what I normally do when I need some accountability. I'm going to write it down.

Today...I ran 8 miles in 1:41. That's a little longer than I used to be able to do it, but I'm hoping to speed things back up. I did get a speed run in this week, and I still don't like doing them, but I know that it's helpful in running faster.

The other part of this is that I need to lose some weight. I know how to do this. Clearly, I've done it in the past. But it's not easy. I've also had a weakness for food for, well, forever. I made a decision last night that I'm going to take a break from Peanut Butter. Not an easy thing for me to do. I love peanut butter. I love it a little too much. It's a hot button food for me, and one that I can't stop eating.

And the third piece of this is that I'm buying a new bike. I'm actually going shopping after I finish this. I'm not positive...but I think I'm going to switch from my tri bike, that I've never really been comfortable riding, to a road bike that I'm quite sure will have better control. A few months ago when I went window shopping, I was foolishly talked out of even riding a road bike. Well, I'm not going to let that happen again. So I'm going to look, but we'll see how that goes. I'm also looking for a bike that I can just ride around the city, that isn't my race bike. This, I'm hoping will get me more comfortable on a bike in general, and therefore more willing to spend more time training.

So...there it is. It starts now.

Birthday Celebrations, or Lack Thereof

Well, it's almost my birthday. Birthday's were always a big deal for our family growing up. We always had a big family dinner with lots of presents. And this wasn't just for the kids...it was for everyone. Birthday's had always been a big deal for my mom's family growing up, and she made a big deal for the kids too.

9 years ago, on my birthday, something happened that changed that day for...well...forever. It's something that I have grown to not want to talk about. Maybe it's less that I don't want to talk about it...it's more that I don't want the look of pity that always follows when I tell someone about it.

My grandparents had been sick for a long time...years. And on my 20th birthday my Grandma died. I will never forget the look on my mom's face when she walked in the door of my college apartment to tell me.

The following year, we had a celebration...a huge family party. We tried to make it a good day. But since then, it's been really hard. It's especially been hard on my mom. It was her mom that died...and I know she misses her. I miss her too.

Part of me feels selfish and guilty for saying this...but...I want my day back. I don't ever want to forget my Grandma. I just don't want her death forever associated with my birthday.

I am not normally a person who makes a huge deal out of holidays...except Christmas and my birthday. Christmas is obvious...and my birthday started when I was young. That was always the one day that was mine. We all had to eat what I wanted. I got the type of cake I wanted. People gave me presents. It was a good day for me. And maybe as an adult...less focus should be put on things like that. But I'm tired of the two things now being intertwined.

My friends have been great about celebrating my birthday. But the one phone call that day that should be so wonderful...the call from my mom...the woman who gave birth to me has forever been changed. She hasn't been able to get through a birthday phone call with me without crying...and more often then not, that conversation has turned into an argument.

So...I want my day back. I want that to be a good day. I can't change what happened. But I want my day back.

Wish List

Well, it's now less than 2 weeks away from my birthday, and always, around this time of year, I like to reflect back on the past year, and see how the year has been. An accounting of sorts.

So...let's take a look at the last year...so far:

*Finished the 2009 race season with the Army Ten Miler, meeting my time goal. +
*Spent Thanksgiving by myself -
*Realized that spending a holiday by yourself isn't really a bad thing +
*Spent Christmas at home with ridiculously cold weather +
*Ran my first ever marathon +
*Directly after marathon, I got the plague, and it took months to recover ---
*Finished my second full tri +
*Swam a relay for a half iron +
*Got sick, which was kind of a little painful -
*Went through a procedure that ended up being unnecessary -
*Was still sick, and went through more tests, still unable to figure out what was wrong -
*Finally figured out what was wrong...but needed surgery to fix the problem -
*Had to spend my first night in the hospital since birth -
*Recovered from surgery well, and was able to start working out again +
*Arrrgust arrived at work, and I spent 6 straight weeks traveling and training ---

+7
-12

Well...the minuses have won it this year...but not by a ton. And I always look for the positives that can come out of a situation. Some good things have happened this year...but it definitely feels like the negatives have won this year...by a landslide. It just feels like a rough year.

Yet, at the same time...I'm not looking forward to turning 29. I'm excited about the start of a new year...and what that new year might bring. But there's something about turning 29 that I just don't want to do. Maybe it's just getting another year older. Maybe it's the fact that this will be my last year in the 20's.

I should be excited...I'm just finding it very hard to do so.

I was thinking this afternoon on my walk home what I could possibly tell anyone that asked what I wanted for my birthday. I couldn't think of one thing that anyone could give me. I don't need material possessions. I can buy myself new running shoes, or anything else I might need. I'd like a new bike...but that's a bit more than I can ask for for my birthday.

There are things that I want. But it's not material possessions.

I think at the end of the day...I'd just like a better year next year. And if anyone can promise me that, I'll love you forever. But realistically...it's just not something anyone can promise.

But oh, how I wish it were.

Savageman: TakeTwo

Well, I'll keep this brief. I decided to relay Savageman for the second year in a row. The run, of course. Last year, I crossed the finish line in tears and came away from the weekend thinking that that course and I had unfinished business.

I knew that it was an ambitious goal. But I thought that I would be able to do it. Never mind the fact that I just had surgery 2 months before. Never mind the fact that I've been traveling for 6 weeks. Never mind the fact that I've had to walk up every hill I've ran lately because if I don't I was pushed into an asthma attack.

I ran the 10K on Saturday...and knew what the run course would be like. I ran it twice the year before. It was challenging. I didn't feel like I was really warmed up until I was almost 5 miles in...which makes sense because I don't get warmed up until I've ran 5 miles. So after the feeling that I was going to die...and trudging up the Fire Tower climb...I thought that the only appropriate way to celebrate surviving the 10K on that course was to run a half mary.

That makes sense...right?

It's only one of the hardest race courses in the world.

There's NOTHING that could go wrong here.

HA!

After finishing the 10K...I was in pain. My shin splints were better than I imagined...but I also had calf cramps like I've never had before.

Saturday morning, I felt ok. Better than I thought I would. But just ok. The shins were sore. The legs were sore in general. And I generally didn't want to run that course again. But I was there. And I had a team. So of course I was going to do it.

Starting the run felt better than the day before. I actually kind of already felt warmed up. That's about the only good thing I had going for me. My stomach was upset...but I think it was more nerves than anything. Coke while running was a very good thing. Close to the end of the first lap, my left hip flexor started hurting. And I really began thinking "this is a really stupid idea."

I survived the second lap. I walked a lot. But I survived. I also realized that I need to change a few things about my training. I wasn't trained enough...and I'm tired of dieing during races. I'm not exactly sure what the answer is...but I have a few ideas. But I did decide during the race that I'm done with that course. No more unfinished business. I tried 3 races there...and got my ass handed to me all 3 times. I'm done.

At least I didn't cry going over the finish line this time...

Throwing in the Towel

Instead of turning to one of my friends to talk to, because I am too scared to open up about this, I am doing what I do...which is write. Even my bff, whom I love and adore, I don't feel strong enough to say this to...even though I know she loves me...and knows how crazy I am, or am not. I guess I've just had a hard time opening up about some things. And it feels weird. I guess because I feel like other people will think I'm crazy.

I'm throwing in the towel on a personal life...at least a relationship...ever. It's not that I don't want that...because I do. I want to get married and have a family. I just don't think it's in the cards for me. So I'm giving up on the hope that it's ever going to happen.

Part of me wants to blame a mis-spent youth. Not that I was wild and crazy, because I wasn't. But I wasted a long time on people that didn't deserve me. I've been quite open with a lot of people about my past. I've run the gamut on eating disorders, and tried to kill myself with all of them. I've had the lowest self-esteem possible. And I've allowed myself to let other people make me feel worthless.

I was in a 4 year relationship with a bad guy. The worst type imaginable. He was the guy that everyone loved because he was such a nice guy in public. But behind closed doors, he was a much different person. Aside from just doing all of the normal "bad boyfriend" behavior like never sending me flowers, or sitting on his ass all day while I worked my ass off to pay the bills...it went much deeper and was much worse. He made me feel worthless, and guilty, and that everything was wrong because of me. When he would explode on me, and I do mean explode...it was always my fault...and I always had to seek him out to apologize. I would often find him sulking like a child sitting on the floor of the closet. And his reason for exploding was always that it was my fault. I had pushed him there.

I couldn't talk about it while I was with him. My friends all thought he was this great guy, and hoped that we would get back together. Until I finally was able to tell them what he was really like. I realized after I had broken up with him, and I had had time to heal, that I was like a battered woman. He had only hit me one time...and I told him that if he ever did it again...I would kill him. I think, I hope, that that is the reason why it never went further. But that didn't stop him from putting me down every chance he got.

Relationships since then have been a disaster. When, infrequently, they do happen, I have seen a similar trend. Not that any of them have lasted long enough for it to get that bad. The longest relationship since then has been 3 weeks long, and that only lasted that long because my friends urged me on.

I have notoriously fallen for the wrong guys. Not that I feel like I've really met any that wouldn't have turned into the right one. But it's scary.

My dating history, recently...not so recently...has been pathetic. I've been on one date this year...and it was excruciating. I got asked on another...but he canceled an hour before we were supposed to meet.

Don't get me wrong. I know what I have to offer. I'm smart, I'm funny, I have a job that I love most of the time...and I'm cute damn it. I'm driven. I can also be persistent, and if you don't really know me, my smart ass personality can sometimes come off as me just being a bitch. But that's me. And I'm not about to change who I am. I am a catch, damn it!

I am lonely. I ache to be held again. And I want a person.

I have great friends and family. And they've been there for me. They have. But most of them are married, or in a relationship. And they're really not just mine.

I want those things. I want them more than anything. But what I don't want is the pain from the hope that one day those things are going to happen...and the pain from them not happening yet. So I'm throwing in the towel. I'm going to cry about it. Mourn the hope that I might some day not be in this situation. And hopefully not worry about it. I'll still be lonely. I'll still lie in bed at night wishing that I had someone warm next to me. And I'll forget all of the comments about me still being young, and to not give up. Well...I turn 29 in a few weeks...and I'm quickly approaching the age where women start to have real problems having families. So I'm going to focus on everything else. Focus on work, and on training, and taking care of myself. Because I need to take care of myself...and no one else is going to do it for me.

I just give up...on that.

The MOO

I'm not even really sure where to begin. It was quite a weekend, quite a day...and there's a lot that I came away with.

After a very long night in airport terminals, or on an airplane, I finally arrived in Madison...and finally checked into my hotel...and most importantly showered. I ended up meeting up with Erin, and worked on our strategic cheering plan for Sunday. Then Saturday evening, we had the team dinner...which completely shouldn't be called "dinner" because it happened at 4pm. But that's beside the point.

I figured I had come all this way to cheer for everyone, so I might as well do it right, so I woke up ridiculously early to meet the team to walk to the race start. At first, there weren't that many people around...but shortly, that definitely changed. Especially in the good spectator areas.

Once we saw the swim start, and also took the time to be amazed at the pro who was easily a quarter of a mile ahead of everyone else...Debbie and I decided more caffeine was needed...so we found a non-Starbucks coffee shop that was open and got some amazing coffee...then made our way back to the course. We ended up in a couple of places...but out of sheer chance (and necessity of finding a bathroom) we ended up being able to watch everyone come out of transition part 1.

After seeing most of the team coming out of transition, we made our way back to the hotel, and met up with Erin...and we headed out to the bike course. Again, by chance, we caught several people at mile 35. Again...quite awesome. We cheered. We made people laugh. It's even quite possible we made some people cry.

Did I mention the costumes? Yes...we were definitely the crazy ones dressed as devils.

We stayed at mile 35 for quite a while, but then decided it was time to move on. I'm not sure what mile we ended up at next...but we saw basically the same group of people...basically because we were looking for Erin's bf (now fiance) Tim.

By the third place we stopped, again, seeing some of the same people...they were starting to look for us...because, of course, we weren't just cheering for our friends...we were cheering for everyone. As a fellow spectator put it best: "If you can make someone smile at mile 70 of this thing, you're doing something good."

Then it was on to the team cheering section where we were more interested in food than anything else because we were hungry...and needed a bit of a rest.

After an almost nap...we moved back into town on the run course, and made it back just in time to see the same group on the run course.

I'm not going to lie...it was a long day. I woke up close to 3am, and didn't get back to bed until 2 the next morning. A large portion of that time was spent on my feet, screaming, clapping, and ringing a cowbell. I have shin splints, a sunburn, and I don't think my vocal chords have yet recovered.

But what really didn't hit until the next day was what I had really seen take place. I saw several of my friends finish one of the hardest things a human being can put their bodies through. It wasn't just Sunday...because for many of them, this process started a year ago. And to see them for a few seconds during that day will stay with me forever.

I was a little surprised that I didn't get more emotional on Sunday. I did good. I think I was so focused on cheering for everyone that it didn't really sink in what was happening around me. Then Monday morning, I watched a video of Mark crossing the finish line...and I was done. I cried then. I cried on the way to the hotel. I'm about to cry now just thinking about it.

From those of us that cheered that day, I have heard of 2 different reactions to the day. One being "I can't wait to do one myself!!" and the other being "This is all the proof I need to tell me that I never want to do this, ever."

Guess which category I fall into?

Yeah...the first.

But we probably already knew that. I've been thinking for a long time that next year would be the year for one. And I'd been thinking about doing Beach2Battleship...for no other reason that the timing would be about right, and I've always wanted to do that race. Plus, since it's not in Mexico, I could get my family to be there...most likely. Now, after experiencing the team effort at MOO...I'm thinking Arizona. Though not the official team race...there are a lot of other people doing the race...and I'm liking that idea.

It is going to be a really long year, and I've seen a lot of what I'm going to go through...though I have absolutely no idea how it's going to feel personally. I'm excited and terrified at the same time...which is probably a good thing. I'm just keeping my fingers crossed that I stay healthy throughout this process...or at least as healthy as I can.

To finish this whole thing off...I have to say I'm still incredibly happy with my decision to go. I've been thanked by many people that raced that day, and by Ed. And to me, it was the least I could do. I didn't do the hard part...but I hope that my small contribution to the cause helped my friends, and strangers alike, to achieve their goal.

My BFF is a Genius.

Yes...we did already know this. But there are now even more reasons why.

Let me back up just a little bit. I had a weird ass dream last night. I was el preggo...gave birth quite quickly...and then had a couple of moments where I was taking care of the little one.

To a single girl with no foreseeable prospects for anything like that in the near future...to say the least...I was freaked out. Freaked out to the point where I had to look up what my dream meant. Not that I really think dream analysis is a bunch of hooey...I just don't really have much of an opinion on the matter. And as a result...don't know much about it. So once I did my brief research...I emailed my BFF...who actually does spend a bit of time on this subject.

We've come up with a solution...and honestly...the solution isn't as weird as I initially thought. In fact...it actually makes much sense.

Here's what we've got:

PREGNANCY: signifies an embryonic stage of a specific type of awareness or enlightenment. May point to the beginning formulation of a plan or idea.

PREGNANCY TEST: refers to a question as to whether or not this is a good time to start a new venture or beginning.

CHILDREN: connote a stage of acceptance and innocence; a belief in possibilities and one's dreams.

MOTHER: characterizes a nurturing aspect; may represent personal real time associations.

HARD LABOR (which I did not see but it's still significant): signifies great personal efforts applied to changing one's life.

Anyone that's somewhat familiar with the past few months of my life is also probably aware that I've been daydreaming about relaxation...and a less stressful life.

Well...I'm definitely not ready to completely uproot my life, quit my job (again) and move across the country (though I do love Seattle). I also know that right now is not the right time to be making decisions like this. But something is definitely needed.

For a very long time I've had a hard time relaxing. I have felt selfish whenever I do anything just for myself. And I've definitely been a little too type A for a little too long. I've used the time that I work out as my "me" time. And though that's really good for working off frustration...it's not exactly relaxing.

So where my BFF is really a genius is her idea. She's doing it for herself...and I'm going to start doing it myself. Once a month (I haven't picked what day of the month I want yet) schedule some time just for myself. Something for me. A pedicure, or massage...or whatever else I want to do. It seems so simple...but yet...so perfect.

I have other things that I want to do too. I have goals for this year...race goals especially. For the year I've had...they're lofty. But I *WILL* get 70.3 in this year. And I'm making a commitment to actually...you know...stick to a training schedule...and not come up with excuses to skip workouts. Unless I accidentally sleep in. I'm thinking if my body (that hasn't slept past 6am in over 2 years) needs to sleep until 8:30am...it probably has a good reason. And then I'll still get my work out in.

I'm also, now, at the end of the hellish 6 weeks. This weekend is mine. Well...mine and everyone doing IM MOO. But there will be no work. And for that, I am very excited. Oh...and it looks like I'm coming back to Seattle in a couple of weeks. But I'm ok with that...because I really do like it here.

Change is a hard thing. But sometimes, change is also a necessary thing.

I thought of something today

I've been living in DC now for almost 2 years exactly. The circumstances in which I moved to DC weren't the greatest. I was in a job that was going nowhere, and hanging out with people that created way too much drama, and way too much trouble.

When I moved to DC, life changed. I feel like I grew up, and really fit into living in the city. I abhorred driving, Country music, and bright colored clothing (anything lime green excluded, of course). I have fully been living the city life style, completely down to going to work far too early, working far too many hours, and fairly fast paced. Well...I have, for a long time, had a problem relaxing. I feel like if I'm not accomplishing something useful, I'm slacking, and therefore, a horrible person. It's a type A thing.

Not only have I been day-dreaming of opening up a B&B...baking and decorating...I've been visiting small towns. I grew up in a small town...and I think for the past couple of years, I've resisted anything and everything small town. Refusing to accept anything that wasn't from my city, and snubbing my nose at small town things...like everyone knowing everyone...and local grocery stores...and commutes that last less than an hour.

As I was driving to my session this morning, I realized that upon moving to DC, things changed for me. And that's probably what I needed at that point in time. But I think I need to get back to my roots just a little bit. It's time. Due to a couple of song suggestions that I desperately needed for my Road Trip play list, I was re-introduced to Country music. And though it's not something that I'll ever listen all the time (then again...there isn't one type of music I listen to ALL the time) I have definitely remembered that I actually do like it.

I'm not saying that I'm ready to leave DC and move back to my home town. Uh...no thank you. Been there, done that. I'm definitely not going to forget many of the things that I've grown to appreciate about living in the city. I really do like living there. I'm definitely not going to start drinking Bud Light. I do like really good beer. Mmm...beer.

But there must be a compromise somewhere. There has to be...right?

So...

...yeah.

Great start...huh? :)

Clearly, I know how to lose weight. Been there. Done that. I just don't like needing to do so again. And I definitely need to do so again. I lost some when I was sick...but not a lot, and definitely not enough to counter the amount of muscle that I lost. Plus, with traveling as much as I have been, and eating like crap...I've gained...well...I'm not sure how much. But there has definitely been a gain.

I've been this out of shape before...but what's more frustrating now is that I've been in much better shape. I've had a lot more muscle...and now I have to try to get it back. Before, I was just happy with the small amount of muscle I was gaining because it was more than I'd ever had before.

What's more is that I'm impatient. Terribly impatient. I want to have all of that muscle back...plus some more...NOW.

As I said...I clearly know how to lose weight...but I've been traveling a lot lately, and it's a little difficult to eat well while on the road. Plus, I like food. And I feel like I'm just now getting back to the point where I should be with work outs.

Side note, I had really awesome grilled salmon for dinner. Served with a lemon wedge...and my fingers (even after a few washings) still smell like lemon. Mmm.

I know that it's going to come back...and it's going to come back soon. But in the mean time...I am definitely not happy with how I look right now. I won't go into grave detail...but it's not pretty.

I'm sure when I get home, and back to life as normal...or better yet...life as I'd really like it to be...then I should be ok. I know I haven't been drinking enough water lately either. I've been so good at that for so long, and being tired and cranky apparently makes me not want to drink water. Ok...drinking 87 cups of coffee or diet coke a day probably effect that as well. But sometimes you need a little pick me up.

I just know that I really don't want to see my scale for a very, very long time.

The end is near-ish.

I'm currently starting my sixth, and hopefully final, week of traveling...at least for a while. Personally...I wasn't really looking forward to losing my 3 day weekend to travel 3000 miles away from home...but I'm beginning to have a change of heart.

The journey West started far too early this morning...because it is either ridiculously difficult (meaning an extremely long day) or extremely expensive (still an extremely long day) to get from one coast to the other. So right away...not something I'm overly looking forward to. But as we were getting ready to land, and we got out of the cloud that kind of freaked me out (because we were in it for a really long time) I saw Seattle. Really for the first time. I've flown through Seattle before...but was in a middle seat flying in, and couldn't really see anything...and flying out was worried that the 6 month preggo Erin was going to puke all over me. So really this was the first time I got a good look at the city.

As we got closer to the airport...something weird happened. I started smiling. That's definitely not something I've done a lot of the past few months. As I got through the airport...and though I still have yet to find a clock in the Seattle Airport...it's definitely not a bad airport. So I get in my rental car...a Dodge Caliber this week...which...let me tell you is one step away from Fred Flinstone's happenin' ride...and would have more power if I stuck my feet through the floor and started running.

I definitely like Seattle. The overcast, rainy weather hasn't even bothered me. And really...the way I feel right now...I kind of want to buy a one way ticket, rent an apartment and buy a Subaru and a kayak :) It just feels very mellow...but at the same time...very...right...somehow.

It also helps that, thanks to the sponsor I have for this week...I'm staying in quite a nice hotel. It's actually a casino on an Indian reservation here...but by far the nicest hotel I've probably ever stayed in. As I sit here in my hotel provided bathrobe. Ok...so I might have felt a little like a bumpkin walking around in awe of the hotel room...but hey...the shower has 3 heads!

Shall I get started on the room service? The best room service meal ever. Ok...so most room service is kind of crap...but this was a good meal. Steak and eggs. Exactly what I needed.

I just looked at the clock on my computer (which is still on East Coast time) and realized that it's really 11pm for me. So I'm going to go to bed now. But I'm definitely looking forward to my week here in Washington.

My First Loaf of Bread

So I've made a list of things I want to learn how to do. Baking homemade bread is on the list...and the first thing I've tried to accomplish.

I failed.

I do not like to fail. At all.

Ok...so it tasted ok...but it was a failure. It was flat, and not very bread-like.

I know that it's a process, and it's something that needs to be learned. But I had such high hopes that my first loaf of bread was going to turn out perfect.

Ok...so it didn't. But I learned some things. As always. Hopefully the next loaf won't turn out so bad.

I mean...I like to bake. And I've got some skills. Not that I like to brag about it...but...you know...people have said some nice things before. Cookies especially...I've got mad skills there. I'm trying to remember the first solo batch of cookies I ever baked. And it's a little difficult because that was probably about 20 years ago. I'm sure they didn't turn out perfect. I know the first cake I baked from scratch was a flop. It happens. You learn. You move on. You bake better things.

But I will not get discouraged. I will try again.

So...here's what's on the list:
Bread (obviously)
Strawberry Jam
Olive Tampenade
Rosemary Lemon Chicken

I'm sure I'll come across more things...but that's on the list right now. Hopefully the next loaf of bread will turn out a little better. I might need some help eating some bread over the next few weeks.

I made a grown woman cry.

And other assorted tales from the road.

I've wanted to detail some of the things I've learned from the last month and a half while traveling about the country. I've traveled to a lot of different places, with completely different cultures...none of them being home to me. This includes the week I spent in DC. That didn't even seem normal to me.

So...let's go back to the beginning of time. Ok...not the beginning of time...that would take too long, and too much therapy to get through. Let's start with 5 weeks ago when I went to Kentucky. This was not a good start to my ARRRRRRGust. I was in complete culture shock. I flew in to Huntington, WV, and right away, I could tell there was a different feel for the area. The airport was very small, only 3 "gates" which were really sliding glass doors that you walked to and from the plane on the actual tarmac. The baggage claim was literally 15 feet long, and it still took almost a half hour for our luggage to re-appear. But it finally did, and I headed over to the rental car counter. When I got there, the 15 year old (kidding...maybe) that they had staffing the counter asked me for my license. When I handed him my DC license, he took one look at it, then me, then asked "so...uh...what brings you to town?"

As I drove to my hotel, I got completely freaked out. I grew up in a really small town, and I've traveled to many places, but this is the first time I really felt like a fish out of water. Think stereotypical coal mining town, and you've about got it. I found my hotel, and it was quite clear that I was in THE nice hotel with THE nice restaurant attached to it. I called my mom, still completely freaking out. I had no idea how I would survive this place...and I had to be there to deliver 3 days of sessions! I ordered room service. Amazingly (and thankfully) they had Blue Moon. This is pretty much the only way I survived the next few days.

The next day when I met my participants that I'd be working with for the next few days, I knew that it was going to be memorable. Let's think 80's hair, 80's clothes, and really deep southern accents. Even my friends/family from Kentucky felt sorry for me for having to visit that area. I wish I had gotten a better warning before I arrived. But I can't say that it was all completely negative. The group was really nice, and they definitely welcomed me. In fact, the sponsor and I talked about me going back next year to deliver other sessions. To be honest, I'd actually willingly go. The reason being that at the end of our 3 days together, a lot of participants thanked me for what I'd done, and a couple even gave me hugs.

I survived the trip back to DC, and even made my connection with enough time to pee and grab lunch. Whew...I'm back in DC for a week!

I spend the following week working with one of our contractors who used to work in the DCPS system for nearly 40 years, and has been a trainer with our company for 7 years. I learned that week that you can work in the field for that long, but you can still learn something from a "kid." I actually taught her something...and I learned some presentation skills from her, but content...well...I already knew. My lack of Early Childhood background had made me feel like I didn't know what I was doing...but seeing that I knew just as much on the subject as she did made me feel pretty darn good. DC was a rough week...and sadly I don't have much positive to say about it. A lot of crap happened that I still don't want to talk about, preferring to leave it in the past. Short story, I was made to feel like I was stupid and didn't know how to do my job, and some new materials that were just handed to me got stolen. DC burnt me out. But hey...I got to sleep in my own bed. Oh...and I was chosen to deliver a presentation on something I had no idea about the night before I was supposed to deliver it. And I kicked ass at that.

So there's that.

Next up...Wisconsin. North-Western Wisconsin. Wisconsin is exactly what you think it is. Small towns with a lot of corn fields. Driving through made me feel like I was back home. It was quick though. I was there to deliver 2 days, and then would immediately be flying to Ohio. The session in Wisconsin went fairly well. One of the most notable things was that there was a HUGE fail with the GPS. I typed in the address exactly how I had been given it, and it took me 7 miles out of my way. Had it not been for my dad, I would have been completely lost. But I survived.

On to Ohio...2 more days. I get to my hotel at 11pm, and realize that the cold I thought I was getting had officially set in. I did not want to be there. I was sick, and tired, and really sick. The first day of the session, I was to deliver to 80 people in a room that could potentially hold 500...so it was a big room, and they made me wear a microphone. This is weird...thinking back on this...it was only 2 weeks ago...but it seems like a lifetime ago. I survived day 1, and the people were, once again, really nice. Day 2, I had no voice, but everyone was really nice to me, and helped me out as much as they could. Fortunately, it wasn't a horrendously long day. I went back to the hotel and crashed. This is the part where I actually appreciate hotel cable.

So far, no horrible stories with participants. Of course, the pace was off for everyone like it always is. But no one had called me out on not having an Early Childhood background, or not having any classroom experience...which is good.

Next up...Salt Lake City. To that point, the most civilized place I've been. I'm in town a day early, which means I get to hang out and work from my hotel room, and relax a little bit. Which was actually possible. It was definitely needed. I even got a chance to visit the Mormon's in Temple Square. They were very nice, and I got some good pictures of Gus...even if I did feel like I was vandalizing the statues by putting a rubber duck on them :) But it was totally worth it. The session in SLC was good, it went really well, and I got to work with another trainer (though we didn't deliver in the same room) we were in the same building which was nice. Kind of moral support for one another. But it went really well, and overall, not many challenges. The main thing was that there was one participant who always talked, and annoyed everyone else. But I worked with it, and again, at the end of the session, I got hugs. Rock on! Days like that are also needed because they remind me of why I like doing this.

Ok...back from Salt Lake City, and I'm in DC for a few days! I actually make an appearance at my office...which I think everyone was shocked that I was there. They hadn't seen me for a month. That's actually not an exaggeration. There was actual some debate about where I would be heading this week. I knew that I would be going somewhere, but I had said that I'd only do the beginning of the week because my BFF is coming into town, and I need to spend some time with her. So first I was going to Washington, then I wasn't...I was going to Boston. Wait...then there's confusion there, and I might not be needed there. So the next day looked like this. I really just want to go to Boston, it'll be easier for me, and it will work with my schedule. Well...sorry...we don't want to send you to Boston, how about South Dakota...and sorry...this will totally screw up your plans. Oh wait...now you can go to Boston. Thanks!

So I've been in Boston this week. The Boston-ites are a little...well...different. Driving here is insane...but I have yet to get lost! It's not hard to navigate...but you really just need to forget all rules of the road that you were ever taught, cut off everyone, and only be concerned with getting where you need to be, and you'll be fine. The sessions here have gone ok...they just had a similar session less than a year ago...so they already know what they're talking about. There is 1 woman here though...wow...just wow. She's been a nervous Nelly the entire time, especially since I introduced the online part. She doesn't like change. She showed up early today and told me that she was really nervous and if I didn't explain everything in detail to her and walk her through really slow that she'd cry. Well...I did walk her through it, and she was picking everything up. When she'd ask what she needed to do, I'd start to explain it, and before I could get my entire explanation out, she would already be doing it. I re-assured her MANY times over the morning that she knew what she was doing...but she just wouldn't believe it. After her session was over this morning, I saw her walking through the building, crying. I didn't say anything then, but told one of the sponsors what I saw. When I was walking back in from getting my lunch...she walked in right before me. I asked her how she was doing, and she wouldn't even acknowledge my presence. That really upsets me...but at the same time...I also know that it's not me. The people here know how she is, and have told me they understand. She'll be fine...she just doesn't think she will be. Well...that's not my problem. Sorry...but I'm not a hold your hand and tell you it'll be ok kind of girl. Never have been, never will be.

I found out when I got to the hotel in Boston that I'd be going to Washington State next week. At this point, I'm tired, and I'm ready to be at home for a while...but what am I going to do. I have thought that what is the point of having an office job if I don't get holiday's (this is the second holiday weekend I've lost this year to training). But what am I going to do? I'm on staff, and I really can't say no. So I'm going to Washington State next week to deliver 4 days of sessions, and then am flying directly to Wisconsin to cheer on my friends at IM MOO.

So let's see...short recap:

Kentucky...big hair and Southern accents, but really nice people.

Wisconsin...your typical Mid-Western small town.

Ohio...I don't remember because I was sick.

DC...not as nice as it sounds for being at home.

Salt Lake City...the prettiest place I've been so far...the mountains were a nice touch.

Boston...crazy people that cry...and have the stereotypical Baaaaaastaaaaaan accents.

My friends and co-workers are beginning to give up on my existence. I thought I was heading in the right direction on a couple of things before this all started...and now I think it's been screwed up because I haven't been there. I've tried to see my friends...but trying to fit everything in in the 24 hours I'm at home is nearly impossible...and I'm not sure why some things haven't worked out even though I've tried to make them happen. I miss my friends. I miss being able to plan more than a couple of days in advance...and not having to change plans at the last minute. I thought once I got home tonight that I'd really be home. Now that's changed. I really hope next week is it. I miss doing things from before all this happened. I want to go running or biking with my friends. I want to have time to see a movie, or go to dinner. I don't want to sleep my weekends away when I'm at home because I'm so exhausted.

I've also been thinking about a lot of things I want to do. I actually wrote out a list the other night. Granted...this list is extensive...and will probably take a lifetime to accomplish...but I have ideas. I want to bake really good home-made bread without the assistance of a bread maker. I want to learn how to make home-made strawberry jam. I want to have this really awesome wooden bench with over-stuffed pillows that I can curl up and read in. There's a lot more to the list...but a few things at a time...

In thinking back about what I've written...I had originally hoped it would be more funny...but that's definitely not the feeling that I'm getting afterward...and that's just depressing. Maybe I need more caffeine :)

The Last Minute...Not So Last Minute Trip to MOO

Alright already...I'm going!!

For the last year, I've wanted to go to MOO. For no better reason than I just wanted to. I want to feel the inspiration that I know an IM race will deliver. I want to be there to cheer on my friends.

For the last year I've come up with excuses that finally just made no more sense. I think for a long time, I just couldn't wrap my head around making the plans to go. I always wanted to go, but for one, I didn't think I'd be able to afford it. And on another hand...I've been traveling lately. A lot. Who wants to travel even more when I don't have to?

Apparently, I do.

I've been thinking about everyone going for quite a while, and I've been jealous of everyone that's been going. And I kept telling myself that it would be really great to go. Then a few other people told me that I should make the trip...and still, I resisted.

Then, in a moment of procrastination, I checked into flights...in greater detail that I initially had. Huh...I could actually afford that. And look at that...there's actually still a cheap hotel room available. Hmm...

And still...I kept thinking to myself that it would be really great to go. And for some reason, I still resisted.

It's not like I don't have the vacation time.

And I can afford it.

And after the last month I've had, I deserve a little time off.

And I wouldn't have to work while I'm there.

And I really want to go.

All of a sudden...this little voice in my head said "so go."

So I'm going. At the end of the day...I know it's going to be a really short trip, in which I'm not really going to get to relax. But I know that I'm going to regret not going more than being a little more tired for a little longer.

So a couple of weeks from now, I'm going to wake up before the crack of dawn, trudge my way to my second home, the airport...and fly to Wisconsin to cheer on my friends and teammates.

Motivation

It's been a strange year. Quite obviously, this is not a new theme. But it's been odd...and not the greatest year of my life. But I'm hoping, as I normally do, that something good will come of all of this crap.

The last month, I've been on the road, training for work. I was burnt out after week 2...and since then, I've just let myself get even further down in the dumps. It's been so easy to let myself get further and further down, that I have forgotten what happened directly before I started jet-setting all over the country. I forgot that I had spent 2 months being sick and recovering from surgery, and what I felt during that time.

This morning while I was spinning, I remembered. I'm pissed off at what happened. I'm pissed off that my body turned on me, and forced me to lay on the couch for so long, and let my body go to mush. I'm not talking about being pissed off in an "I hate the world" type of way. I'm talking about the constructive pissed off. Where I use that as motivation.

What's been happening? While on the road, it's so easy to be sad and lonely and use the excuse that I'm tired to not run or spin, or cut my workout short. It's been so easy to use that as an excuse. But I've forgotten. Forgotten that I like doing this. Forgotten that I don't like how it feels to be fat and lazy.

So what am I going to do? Well...try to remember that I have motivation to turn things around. And not use the excuse that I'm tired. The only place that excuse is worthy is after a long run or ride. Anywhere else, and it's just bullshit. I just need to remember that I'm pissed off. Pissed off in a good way. I'll tattoo it on my forehead if I need to. And that will work. I realized this about 10 minutes into my spin this morning. I was at that point where I started getting tired. My legs were starting to feel it. My sit bones started hurting. And I was ready to quit. Just stop. Then I remembered. I remembered to be pissed off. And it worked. Well...it worked for as long as it could possibly work. But at least I finished spinning for the amount of time I had hoped to finish.

70.3...here I come :)

Can't I Just Be Myself?!?

AKA...you're a slimy man and I now feel like I should shower...again.

There's a guy in my building...who used to work in the office...and when I locked myself out of my apartment tonight...he was actually quite helpful. He called the guy that could let me in...and then let me hang out on his balcony with a glass of wine while we waited.

I've known him for a while...and what he did tonight was very nice...but at the same time...I was constantly reminded of one thing...he's a slimy guy who I wouldn't trust further than I could throw him. As we were waiting...he was asking what was going on...because clearly I was a little upset.

I told him what's been going on in my life...and when it came to the relationship part of my life (or lack thereof) everything he suggested was just...well...gross. Better yet...it wasn't me. He told me that I should always have one waiting for me when I come home from a trip...and in case he's not available...I should have a couple of back-ups. That's not me. It's just not.

He made me laugh...which in the situation...was needed...but at the same time...it was eye opening.

I realized a while ago that I'm a relationship person...and that whoever I end up with has to like me for myself. If I can't be myself around someone...or if someone doesn't like who I am...then they're clearly not the person for me.

I just hate when other people try to tell me what I need to do...when that's just not me.

Up in the Air: Changing Perspectives

I don’t want to end up like George.

I’ve been traveling a lot lately. Too much really. To the point where I’m not sure what my normal life is (was) like anymore. I watched the movie Up in the Air a few months ago…and even then, there was a sense of déjà vu. It was creepy. I didn’t like it. I like it even less now.

For the past few weeks, my life has been lived in airports and crappy hotels, and classrooms with large groups of strangers. I thought I liked my job…I at least thought I liked that part of it. And really…I do…just not this much of it.
I’m definitely a routines person. A planner…sort of. When I’m at home, I get up, I make coffee, and I read for a while. Then I get ready, and go to work. I take the same route to work. It’s comfortable. But now, I feel out of whack. When traveling, I try to keep the same routine, but it’s really hard. I do get up, and I make coffee. But when in a hotel room with cable, I’ve been watching TV in the morning. For some reason, reading just doesn’t have the same catch. Maybe my brain feels overly taxed right now.

When delivering a training session, it’s like I’m a performing monkey for 7 hours. I’m always “on.” Then I go back to my hotel room and “relax.” Which really means I sit on my arse and watch TV. This is another part of my daily routine I miss. When I’m at home, I go for runs, or a bike ride. Sometimes I swim…but it’s been a while for that. But hey…my Dr. told me not to yet. Though I’m pretty sure if I wanted to, I could by now. I feel out of sorts. Working out keeps me grounded…it feels good.

I also eat like crap when I travel. I don’t know how to change that. I should know. But it just seems like it’s really difficult for me. I think part of it is emotions. I eat because I think it’s going to make me happy…and justify it that way…but really…that’s crap. It doesn’t make me happy. If anything, it makes me feel worse about myself.

I know that this isn’t going to last forever. But the next 2 weeks feel like forever. It’s really hard to see the end of all of this. Maybe because I’m directly in the middle of it.

I know right now I’m not happy. But I’m not sure what will make me happy. Part of me thinks that if I had someone to come home to, that would make me happy. Or if I did this…or that. At this point, I’m not even sure getting back to DC and back to my normal life is going to make me happy.

Not that he knows it, but I’ve been hijacking one of my friend’s dreams of opening a B&B. Not so much the day to day running of the B&B…the part I focus on is sitting on the front porch in a pair of jeans reading a book. Now of course, never having stayed at a B&B before, my mind immediately goes to a B&B on the beach…because I’m thinking of Nicolas Sparks novels where all of the B&B’s are on the beach. Don’t get me wrong. I hate the beach. I hate sand. But sitting on the porch with the ocean right in front of me sounds pretty damn good right about now.

I don’t know if that’s really what I want for my life. I know before I was happy living in DC. I enjoyed living there, I enjoyed working there. I enjoyed the use of public transportation. I did like my job…a lot.

In my logical brain, I know that right now is not the time to be making any major life changing decisions. I do know that. But my brain has to think of something just for sanity’s sake. I imagine moving out of DC, and settling down. Buying a house with a front porch. Or a back porch. Somewhere where I could have a grill. Oh…did I mention the dog sitting at my feet? Yes…a dog. I want a dog. I travel too much to where I couldn’t have any kind of animal without spending half of my salary in dog sitting fees.

I’m not sure where this magical place is. I do know that I haven’t been there yet. I’ve been back in Middle America this week. It definitely reminds me of home. But I do know that I’m also not ready to move back to a place like that. But the slower life style seems to fit me. But then again, DC fits too.
I know I don’t want to end up like George in Up in the Air…but that’s definitely what I feel like right now. I’m the sad person that travels way too much, calls the airport home as much as any other place…and doesn’t have anything to come home too. George abandoned his family in the movie…and I could never see myself doing that…but at the same time…I have my parents…that I talk to but rarely see. Other than that…what do I have?

I have some friends…and I’m trying to make more of an effort to see them when I’m home. Why even last week…I leapt. I was tired…and felt like drinking…and instead of sitting at home on the couch…I accepted an offer to hang out with someone who I truly admire. We didn’t do much…we went to Jazz in the Garden…and drank Sangria. It’s not something I would normally have done…and I don’t know why. It was fun. I had a really good time. And instead of actually listening to the jazz…we drank and talked…which is basically what everyone else was doing too. Much more fun that sitting on the couch drinking wine by myself.

Tomorrow I’m going to the movies with my roommate…who even when we’re both in town, we rarely see one another. And I know she misses me. She even told me so. It’s nice knowing that she’s there…even if we don’t see each other that often. And we’re going to the baseball game next weekend. That will definitely be fun…and another friend is joining us. It should be interesting if nothing else.
But even with those things…it seems like something else is missing. I take a cab home from the airport. I don’t have anyone here that (even if it’s a surprise) picks me up from the airport. I want the missing piece. I want to settle down. No more spending 45 minutes on the phone trying to change airline tickets for the next week. No more dragging my suitcase through the airport, waiting in line to go through security. No more packing on autopilot. No more spending 24 hours at home, and having a list the length of my arm of things I need to complete.

I know that I’m sick (literally) and tired (exhausted) right now. And I know that it’s not going to last forever. I know that, because, if it did last forever, it would kill me. And maybe I’m just venting right now. But it seems like I’m looking at things a lot differently now. I don’t want to end up like George…sad and alone. But that’s what I feel like right now.

I'm just so tired.

I'm tired. Really, really tired. It's not the same tired that I felt when I was sick. This is just pure mental exhaustion. I don't even remember when this started...this tiredness. I don't remember what triggered it. But I know how I feel right now. I have a headache. My body hurts. I'm nauseous I don't want to keep my eyes open. I want to go back to bed, and curl up in my blankets...pull them over my head and disappear.

Yesterday was definitely not a good day. It was my one "day off" before leaving again. And I definitely use the term "day off" loosely. I couldn't relax at all. There are so many things that need to be done that I couldn't relax. The only time that I really spent for myself yesterday was when I ran. Don't get me wrong...that was good...but the rest of the day was pretty crappy.

I had to make sure I downloaded all of the materials I needed for this week. Then go to Staples and have them printed. Do laundry so I actually have clothes to wear. And do everything else that I'm supposed to do...all so I can leave again.

By 7:30 last night...I hadn't even gotten my suitcase out. I couldn't. I couldn't even imagine opening that empty suitcase and filling it. So much so that the image of clothes laying out on my bed made me cry. I didn't want to do it...and when I finally forced myself to do it...it was on autopilot.

Being this tired...this burnt out...causes a lot of feelings that I normally wouldn't have. Don't get me wrong...depending on the day...I'm either the most confident person you've ever talked to...or the most insecure. Recently...there have been a lot less insecure days...but yesterday was definitely one of them. Between buying a new dress that...let's face it...just makes me look really fat...and not being able to relax...and worrying about work...which of course ends up making me feel bad about everything that's not perfect in my life. It's a domino effect.

I feel like I have no backbone. No strength left. No support. There is no "just keep going." I feel like I can't do it. I just can't. I don't want to. And really, it just makes me feel so much more...alone.

Now we're on a completely different topic. I've been watching a lot of Grey's Anatomy lately. There was an episode that I watched where one of the character's has Asberger's...and she freaks out. And what she needs to calm herself down is to be held. It helps decrease your blood pressure. It's been so long since I've felt that. So long. I don't think I even remember what it feels like.

I've went on one date in the past year...and it was horrible. Awful. You keep hearing people asking what's wrong with themselves that they can't get a date. I try to think that it's just that I have ridiculously high standards...and that when the timing is right...it'll come along. But maybe it is me. Sometimes I think I've lost the opportunity to have a relationship...or even friends. And I don't know how that happened. I don't know. Yesterday...I was having an ugly/fat day. Ok...so I'm still kind of having it. Of course I'm going to be alone forever. Who would ever want me?

I thought writing about this would help me put things in perspective...at least sort out my thoughts. But it seems like it's only made things more cloudy. More confusing.

I do know I hate feeling like this. I miss feeling like it was ok to walk around in my cycling shorts...or that it really is ok to wear a swimsuit. I miss that confidence. I want it back. I want to stop feeling like this. I want to stop looking at my stomach and physically being able to see how much more fat is there now.

I want to be happy again.

Remember when...

I knew this was going to happen. I just knew it. I was off work for 2 weeks, and literally did nothing except lay on the couch. And I went crazy. Absolutely stir crazy.

Now it's August. More appropriately ARRRRRgust.

It's the busy season. Which means everyone at work is drowning, and I will be home for 1 week. One. Week. And even then...not in the office.

I don't mind traveling. I actually enjoy it. But I miss my bed when I'm gone. And it's a range of emotions. And there are other things. There are a lot of other things. I love delivering training sessions. I love getting to work with teachers and administrators, and seeing the fact that what I'm telling them is actually sinking in. Their excitement to take this information back to their classrooms, where it will only benefit the children they teach is quite rewarding.

But like I said. There are other things. I still have a massive amount of work that I'm responsible for that no one else can help me with because they're all drowning too. And for as much as I have hated to admit it, I'm not superwoman, and there are just some things that I can't get done. Not immediately. And some people that want these things done want it done yesterday...and when it's not...they push...they push and they make me look bad for not getting to everything. It's hard. It's hard for me to accept that I just can't get everything done.

Other than not being able to be Superwoman...the traveling is hard. When I'm actually delivering the training session, I'm always on. It's like I'm performing for 7 hours a day, entertaining the group of people that have no idea who I am. Then, once the day is done, I head back to my hotel room...where I sit in my hotel room, likely eating room service and watching reruns on TV. It's the drastic 180 that's needed...but also a little maddening. It's extreme. Don't even mention any sight-seeing of any kind...because I'm quite certain I saw all of Eastern Kentucky that I needed to see on the drive from the airport. And after a day of performing, I need to decompress. But it gets lonely.

I eat like crap when I travel. I get one day at home...and that day isn't relaxing. It definitely hasn't been relaxing today. I have this one day to get everything done that I need to get done. Laundry. Cleaning. Shopping.

I've already had a couple of moments where I was ready to throw in the towel. And it's just the beginning of the month. There's a lot more of this to go...

So to that I say...

Remember when? Remember when I got to lay at home and watch movies all day. Granted, I couldn't run. So let's say...I'd gladly take another week of being able to lay on the couch, as long as I could run whenever I want too. Is that too much to ask? Unfortunately for now...yes...it is too much to ask.

Thinking Crazy Thoughts...Again...

While I was sick and recovering from surgery, I made myself a lot of promises. One of them was that I would get my ass back in shape, and hit the training hard. I'm planning to go to the gym and actually work on strength training. I'm going to actually train for this 70.3 that I'm signed up for. And I have been putting a lot of thought into training for a marathon...mainly...because I can. It's August...the beginning of August...and I've ran 4 miles for my longest run...and I'm running the Savage half in September. Really...I haven't been all that concerned about running coming back. I know I can run. Other stuff...I'm going to have to work on a little harder.

So there are 3 races...marathons...that I'm considering...and I'm having a hard time making the leap to sign up for any of them. Here's the time line.

November 13...Beach 2 Battleship 70.3
December 5...Vegas Marathon
January 8-9...Goofy's Challenge
March...something...Shamrock Marathon

That's 3 Marathon's and a Half Ironman in 4 months.

I'm not sure what my normal recovery time is going to be. As soon as I finished Disney this year...I got bronchitis. For normal people...that's not a huge deal...but for an asthmatic...it can be deadly...and it takes a really long time to recover from.

Then...basically as soon as I recovered from the plague...I got even more sick...which has been months. I want to do all of them...I just don't know if I can...

I didn't ask for this.

I feel like this always happens to me. I meet someone. We start talking. We start flirting. There's a connection there. Then something seemingly unseen happens...and I get insecure yet again. And I get pissed at myself for letting myself like someone.

I didn't ask for it this time. In the past...I've been looking. This time...I had given up. I'd completely given up. Not even wanted anything. And it happened again.

And nothing has happened. I just feel like it's never going to happen. Like I've yet again done something wrong. Like who I am is wrong. And again...he's just going to disappear.

I hate feeling like this. Like who I am is wrong. Like some little insecure person who is just...wrong.

I know part of the problem. I actually know a couple of parts of the problem. But I don't know how to fix them. Part is hormones. Part of it is being "damaged goods." Past relationships that didn't work out making me insecure of who I am.

It doesn't help I'm homesick. I'm actually homesick. I'm in the middle of nowhere...and I miss home. I miss my own bed.

Blerg.

I want this to be over. I didn't want this in the first place.

The Quest: Partner(s) in Crime Needed!

I love food. I love all types of food. Thai, Ethiopian, Pizza, Sushi, Cereal, Pasta, Meat and Potatoes. All of it. But my favorite meal has been for many, many years...ok...let's say my entire life...has been a burger and fries. Any burger. Turkey burger; Veggie burger; Big, thick, juicy, greasy burgers. Yum. Yum.

The Quest: To find the best burger and fries in the DC area.

Needed: Partner(s) in crime. Because seriously...a quest like this can't be done by myself. It would be no fun...and because it's a little difficult to take stupid pictures of myself eating a burger.

Why: Why not?

In reality...I've been thinking about this for a while. And what brought it about was a couple of things. One being that I've been a bit restricted recently on what I've been allowed to eat...meaning no greasy burger and fries. But I'm pretty much free to eat whatever I want once again! And also, my dad keeps reminding me of a restaurant we went to while visiting DC when my brother was in the National Spelling Bee...and he keeps telling me how great these burgers were...and all he can remember is that the place was somewhere in Bethesda. But he doesn't remember any more than that. He's getting old and losing his memory...so I give him a bit of slack ;)

So what is needed of you? I need you to be willing to join me (even if it's only once) for a meal. You must order a burger of some kind. And of course give your opinion of said burger. Really, I'm envisioning some really funny pictures, some really good food, and a really good time.

Who's up for the challenge?

A different kind of wall

I have a lot of friends that are in the midst of training for an Ironman, or who have just completed their first Ironman...and I'm jealous.

I have not trained for an Ironman, but am planning to next year...but I have trained for a marathon, and other shorter distance tri's. In each of these, there is a point where you just say "eff this, I'm done." For most people, this comes later in the race/training run. For me, as long as I could get past 2 miles, I was golden...I just had to get past mile 2. I'm weird like that.

I have tortured my body to points that the fat kid I was growing up never imagined I would put myself through. I've had sore legs, sore shoulders, back aches, neck aches, head aches, and aches in places I didn't know could hurt...and honestly loved every second of it. So I say now. If you had asked me then, I probably would have had a slightly different answer...but I still wasn't about to stop doing what I was doing.

The past few months, I've had to go through a completely different type of endurance. And one that was created by my body...not by what I had chosen to do with my body. And believe it or not...the most likely cause of the problems I have had is losing 120 pounds. Apparently your gallbladder turns on you if you lose weight rapidly. Not to mention there are genetic factors in my family as well.

I feel betrayed. My body betrayed me. And to be honest, I'm a little pissed about it. I grew up an overweight child, that never exercised, and hadn't played any sports since I sat the bench the entire season of volleyball in Jr. High. I gained a ton of weight in my early 20's...and once I finally shed that weight...and started becoming a more healthy person...I started running...then I started doing triathlons. And to do that, I've overcome asthma and horrible allergies to everything outdoors, and my own klutziness. I willingly put my body through that. If what I have gone through in the past 4 months had anything to do with what I had chosen to do with my body, I wouldn't be so pissed. But my body turned on me. A useless organ that's merely used for storage turned on me.

I've gone through highs and lows that I never imagined. For the many months that they couldn't figure out what was wrong, I quite possibly have never been so terrified in my life. But they finally figured it out, and they fixed it. This, of course, after months of being exhausted, and attempting to push my body through workouts, and just not being able to after a while. So finally, I couldn't do anything but go to work, and then come home and lay on the couch.

Who would have ever thought that being forced to lay on a couch and let my body be sick would be so difficult? Well...let me tell you...it's hard. It's really effing hard. I'm close to the end...and the mental insanity, and bouncing off the walls that I've done lately, especially post-surgery has pushed my mind to limits I never thought I would be pushed to. I'm not good at this. Maybe some people really are ok with relaxing, and just watching TV...but that's not me. I'm more type A than I ever imagined I really am. But I hate, despise really, not being able to do anything. The past week, when my parents weren't here to keep me occupied, and make sure I didn't do anything stupid have really been tough. Where telling myself that I really, in fact, do need to lay on the couch and watch another movie so when I can start working out again, I'm not going to do more damage.

But guess what? I'm close to the end. I go back to the Dr. tomorrow for my follow up appointment. It's the day I've been waiting for. It's the day that I will hopefully be let out of the doghouse, and will be able to return to training, though most likely a very light schedule.

I'm petrified.

Absolutely, 120% petrified.

I'm scared that they're going to tell me that I'm not quite ready to re-start yet.

I'm scared about how it's going to feel.

I'm scared that after 6 weeks of laying on the couch, and at most walking a few miles, my body will have gone to mush...and there won't be any muscle there to remember that I like doing this.

I'm scared at what's going to hurt. Not the typical muscle soreness...but I'm scared that this is going to hurt for a while...because a week and a half ago I had my insides ripped to shreds.

I know if I can get past that first run, that first bike ride, that first swim, I'll be fine. But it's stepping up to the line that I have to force myself to get to.

I've never needed anyone to hold my hand through something...nor do I have anyone that would do that for me...and I want to believe that I don't need it now, or then, or whenever...I'm just...scared.

I know that a lot of people are going through crap right now. And I'll admit, for having to take some time off training, I couldn't have picked a better time...because the weather has been ridiculous. And I do miss it. I hear everyone talk about their rides/runs/swims...and I've been jealous. I wish I were there with them. But this has just been a very unusual experience for me to get through. One that I really don't wish to repeat ever again.

Tomorrow is the day. I'm keeping my fingers, toes, and every other appendage crossed.

Romantical Ideas

Now...don't get all worried and think that I'm going to be talking about candle lit dinners, and other assorted things that will make you (and me) puke. Clearly, I'm not talking about romance in the way most people think about romance today. I'm thinking romance in the ways of Gothic novels. Let me explain.

There are a few things in the world that make me pause and get that warm, fuzzy feeling inside. Taking a walk while it's snowing and the feel of snowflakes on my eyelashes. The feeling you have when you first wake up, and haven't yet opened your eyes, and yet to have the stress of the day upon you, when your entire world is still at peace. And my absolute favorite, putting pen to paper and writing an actual letter.

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate many of the technological advances that have allowed things such as social networking and email, text messaging, and smart phones. These pieces of technology have allowed us to communicate in a much more immediate fashion, and keep in contact with many people that over time you would normally have lost touch with.

But there is something that touches my soul when I get an actual letter in the mail. Maybe it's the fact that this only happens a couple of times a year. But I don't think that's it. Taking the time to sit down, and actually write someone a letter takes time, time that many people aren't willing to take on a regular basis.

Letters are how people used to court. Can you imagine the patience it would take to only be able to communicate through letters? One of the most memorable afternoons of my childhood was the afternoon that my family found the letters that my Grandpa had written my Grandma before they were married. It offered us such a rare glimpse into their relationship. I'm honestly not sure I had ever seen my father laugh that hard. And it's been a rare occasion since. It was a chance to travel through time, and see my grandparents as young lovebirds. To see them 50 years younger.

50 years from now, I can guarantee that my children and grandchildren aren't going to sit around reading my emails or facebook account. That's just now how this works.

Paper tends to stick around. We keep things that are special to us. Like the letters I wrote to my grandparents when I was a kid, to tell them that I missed them. Or the letters that my Grandma writes me now. She tells me what her day is like, tells me that she's going to cook something good for dinner, and what her blood sugar was, and that she needed to take a nap. I love it.

I am as guilty as everyone else about not putting pen to paper often. I normally only succeed at doing things like that around Christmas, or rarely throughout the year. But I always wish I would.